<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>flowers by platonics</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26449744">flowers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonics/pseuds/platonics'>platonics</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>joy (when you call me) // himikiyo oneshot set [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cemetery, Fake Character Death, Flowers, Injury Recovery, Language of Flowers, Living Together, Melancholy, Nonbinary Shinguji Korekiyo, Other, Post-Canon, Rain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:20:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>933</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26449744</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonics/pseuds/platonics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Red roses for love. Peonies for bravery. Chrysanthemums for truth. Lilies for death and funerals. She could probably become a florist that specialized in lilies at this rate, given how much she’d learned about them.</em>
</p>
<p>Himiko goes to the cemetery.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Shinguji Korekiyo/Yumeno Himiko</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>joy (when you call me) // himikiyo oneshot set [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>flowers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <em>if this looks familiar to anyone, that's because this (and the rest of the works in this series) were originally posted in july 2019. however, i'm going through and editing them to make them flow better, tagging less lazily than i did at the time, and putting them in a series as opposed to chapters of a single work. sorry for any inconvenience!</em>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Until recently, Himiko never realized how fascinating the language of flowers could be. Floriography — even the name was pretty. She didn’t know all the nuances yet, and hadn't looked up the more obscure flowers. She only had a casual interest, after all, and a quite recent one at that. However, she knew some of the basics.</p>
<p>	Red roses for love. Peonies for bravery. Chrysanthemums for truth. Lilies for death and funerals.</p>
<p>	She could probably become a florist that specialized in lilies at this rate, given how much she’d learned about them. All the varieties, how to make them last the longest, the most beautiful arrangements...Sometimes it felt like lilies were her whole life. She brought fresh bouquets to the cemetery every few days. Some of the other frequent visitors there were beginning to recognize her, sparing a moment to acknowledge her even in their mourning.</p>
<p>	<em>Lilies for death.</em> The cut glass of the vase was beginning to get dusty with orange pollen. Unthinkingly, Himiko tried to wipe some of it away, only to wind up staining her hands instead. With a frustrated sigh, she wiped them on her pants, deciding to deal with it later. She didn’t know why she bothered in the first place. It was absurd to care if anything here was dusty — she was the only one who visited.</p>
<p>	She traced a finger over the precisely carved kanji on the gravestone, wondering who had paid for it. Maybe Team Danganronpa. After how badly things had turned out for them, they needed some sort of good PR. Providing funerals for everyone would do that, never mind the fact that it was just basic human decency. A crow squawked loudly as it took flight from a nearby tree and Himiko startled, scraping her knuckles on the edges of ‘<em>Shinguuji.’</em></p>
<p>	“Shit,” she hissed, ignoring the dirty look she got from a nearby grandmother. It was debatable whether it was because she swore or because she was at Shinguuji Korekiyo’s grave. Either one was possible. Lifting her hand up to inspect the damage, Himiko grimaced as she saw that her hand was actually a little bloody now. Who knew marble was that sharp? Realizing just in time that she shouldn’t touch the wound with her fingers still stained with pollen, she settled for just shaking her hand out a little, waiting for the stinging to fade.</p>
<p>	Well, it was about time to go anyway. She’d stayed long enough to seem respectable, and the bus would be coming soon. She got to her feet and headed back towards the entrance, forcing a smile when she passed the woman who’d been glaring at her. </p>
<p>	There were still posters for Danganronpa 53 on the bus, peeling and faded. Himiko kept her head down, acutely aware of her face on the walls, but nobody spoke to her today. Either they didn’t recognize her or they simply didn’t care. By the time she got to her stop, it was raining lightly.</p>
<p>	She hadn’t brought an umbrella, so her hair was dripping when she got home, but the rain had at least washed the blood and pollen off her hands. Himiko nudged the door closed with her foot, making a halfhearted attempt to wring out her hair.</p>
<p>	“I’m back,” she called out. No response. Himiko rolled her eyes, ambling into the kitchen. There was a pizza box on the table that hadn’t been there when she left. There was only one piece missing, but it must have been there awhile. The pizza was merely room temperature now. She shrugged and grabbed a slice anyway, letting the box close again.</p>
<p>	“You got pizza without me? What did you do when the delivery guy came?” she asked, still shouting across the apartment as she flipped through the stack of mail on the counter. Eventually, Himiko wandered in the direction of the bedrooms, eating her pizza as she walked.</p>
<p>	The neighbors probably thought she was crazy, talking to herself all the time. She lived alone. Officially anyway. She paused in one of the bedroom doorways, leaning against the doorframe and gazing fondly at the figure on the bed, dark hair like an inkblot against the white pillowcase.</p>
<p>	“I did nothing. He didn’t appear to recognize me, so I believe it was worth the risk to get some lunch. However, making myself presentable took more out of me than I expected, so I needed to rest after eating.” Their voice was still heavy with sleep, and they slowly sat up and stretched, wincing as they did. Must’ve just woken up.</p>
<p>	“Yeah, and I bet you didn’t take your pills either,” she scolded, trying and failing to keep the fondness out of her tone. “I would’ve gotten food on the way home if you just texted me.”</p>
<p>	“It’s fine. The pain isn’t too bad today, and in any case, I think it’s only fair I endure it.”</p>
<p>	“Don’t be such a martyr,” Himiko muttered under her breath, going to sit on the edge of the bed.</p>
<p>	“Where were you, anyway?” they asked, pointedly ignoring her last comment. “I didn’t think Harukawa was the sort to visit for quite that long.”</p>
<p>	“She’s not. Almost an hour of it was going to the florist’s and stuff and visiting <em>your </em>grave, so it’s your fault I was out so long,” she said. Korekiyo laughed, lifting one bandaged hand to brush a few strands of hair out of their face.</p>
<p>	“Well then, my apologies for inconveniencing you,” they deadpanned. “I’m sure my spirit appreciated the visit.”</p>
<p>	Danganronpa executions were flawlessly designed. Nobody had ever survived one. Officially, anyway.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>kind of weird editing/reposting this after having written yakusoku lol...that's the much better flower-themed himikiyo imo but i still like what i did with this one too</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>